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Barbarian State
Current Status (Jul 5 2012) The Barbarian State cannot own any territory (or currently does not). It also does not have any alliances, trade routes, or notable figures as of this writing. To date it has razed 4 provinces: *Oh *Dritt *Siccer *Myles Of the two starting Hordes, one is destroyed, but the other is healthy and active. The second navy has converted from Longboats to "PIRATES!" and seems to be busying itself rampaging the inland seas to the north. Introductory Post Note that not all of these values reflect the game mechanics Player Name: suomynonAyletamitlU Nation Name: (Barbarian State) Government: Anarchic Tribalism Leader: None Location: Let's say the westernmost small (2-city) island of the colonies area, western city. Island of Oh and Dritt National Colour: Black with white hatches On fire, mostly Flag: Unadorned black flag (or alternately, the Jolly Roger) Black flag with X and flames Brief Nation detail: Not so much a nation as "Nobody around to stop things from going to crap." Barbarians are anarchic, self-involved, and corrosive to society. They do not produce, research, or train. Brief History: Unfortunately, this city was corrupt enough that when things started to collapse, there was nobody sane left to pick up the pieces. Cults of personality developed--cults that fought each other, innocents, and outside forces equally. Each of these militias is an independent actor--none are allied. All cities owned by this faction are lawless, and produce nothing beyond their own self-sustenance, although new barbarian units appear from time to time. Bonuses: * Disorganized Rabble: All units are poorly trained and suffer combat penalties; however, they can recruit new fighters from the populace (rebuilding an existing unit, not creating a new one) very rapidly. They are also more likely to scatter and run, allowing them to survive encounters against superior forces. (Ranged and mounted units are more likely to kill fleeing barbarians than infantry) * Maxim 1 (Pillage THEN Burn): Barbarians are less interested in capturing cities than they are in looting. If they loot a city, they sabotage long-term production, but have a chance of improving the unit or immediately creating a new barbarian unit (which may flee from, ignore, or compete with the looting unit). Barbarians do not have a navy, but can produce longboats when looting a port city, allowing infantry to cross to another landmass. These longboats are destroyed in the process of landing. Initial starting army: 6 Infantry (x2), 2 Longboats (x2) Your nation in five words: "Barbarians krush, kill, 'n' destroy." The Barbarian State is not meant to be a serious contender for long-term governance. It's basically just the grim black claw of chaos, leaving a bloody (but hopefully not deep) gash on your legs as you try to get your feet under you. Honestly, given the choice, I would scatter the forces all over, and just make attacks of opportunity continuously. Background Lore (the Twin Cities of Oh and Dritt) It began in the city of Dritt. That is, the corruption that ended up consuming the whole island started there; the finale of chaos started in the north. As happens, it's ones most insistent on their own nobility that truly can't handle a little chaos, and they break wide open. The island was supposed to be reputable, of course. There was only one major port, Oh, and it wasn't corrupt, not at the beginning. Quite the opposite; illicit traffic was driven off pretty handily. But as is the way of things, bum traders wanted to stop on the island, and if they couldn't land legally, well, they'd land otherwise. More than a few skiffs tried to land on the rocky shores around Dritt, starting not long after the first announcement of tariffs and regulations, and the first arrests. Plenty of ships ran aground, mind you, and it was never considered a smart move by anyone. But there were ways on and off the island, and all things considered, the leadership turned a blind eye. Perhaps if they'd known the drugs and money would flood Dritt as much as they did... perhaps if they knew how it affected the nobility... but they didn't. As I say, quite a few drug shipments ran afoul of the coasts near Dritt, and their merchandise... well, it was found. And once found, paid for, by folk with coin. Soon enough, common lawmen on the street were being bought off so more drugs could be snuck in. This wasn't drugs purchased by peasants or tradesmen--it was addictive, corrosive, and vile, and it cost far and away more than anyone should spend. Heads of police, heads of state, and nobles of note... well, they might as well have been dead, for all the good they did the populace, once they were hooked on the stuff. Traces, by report, made it into the water supply, but it only hastened the inevitable--after all, nobody had demanded those nobles get hooked on Grim Glory. It was their own boredom and conceit, and it was only one of several ways they showed it. Drittheads, they were called--drug-addled monsters with nothing to their character but the raw odor of malice. Whispers of revolution started long before the fall of the Federation. The leaders of Oh meted out cruel measures to silence them, but like grains of sand, malcontent slipped out every crack. Whispers became murmurs, became shouts. Nobles took up arms against the populace, and in their Grim Glory, they slaughtered innocents and conspirators alike. To be among those men was to understand despair; there was no hope of escaping the tyranny of these people. Fields were torched, whether deliberately or accidentally; the remainder was hoarded. Mansions and warehouses became fortresses that people dared not leave. Traders began to shun the island, for all the maddened throngs that waited at the docks. Soon there was no way to live but to raid a noble's house en masse, and distribute what little food was found there to live another day. Soon enough, this too fell apart. Everything was burning. Everything was dying. Now... now any man who could claim to offer escape, or claim to offer just one more day's food, became a hero--a god amongst men. Throngs took up the sword and marched under one man's banner, then another. It was a cult of personality, and the cultists changed their tune whenever one man or the next could not deliver. Others became so violently loyal that it bordered on madness. It was above and beyond religion; it was agony. Crude boats were prepared. Not warships--any remnants of tradesmanship was gone. These were raiding vessels, meant only to carry men to the next shore. One fleet, then another, cast off. Behind them, the throngs left behind tore at each other, fighting over what scraps remained. The leaders of the two fleets stared at each other over what seemed an impassable distance. No word, nor signal, nor even semaphore passed between them, but they each knew that what they had left remained burned into them. They were enemies of each other, of those behind them, of all other hungry people. If they ever met, they would stab the other in the back, steal their possessions, perhaps even consume each others' flesh, if they had nothing else. The ships turned aside and fled in different directions. The hungry people were enemies of all humanity. They saw in all people the same betrayal they had seen in their own leaders. They would show others the ferocity and malice that had made them worthy to survive the bloodstained wreck of Oh and Dritt. Those that had been in the deepest parts of Dritt were the most tainted, and their souls were turned the darkest. Soon, their blades would carry that darkness across the seas, to new lands. Soon, the Dritt would hit the Jam, and who is to say what it might get into after that. Category:GGG Category:Nations